Jane Jago’s Daily Drabble – One Hundred and Eleven

He chose her because she was obviously drunk. Walking her home his mouth watered and he caressed the rope in his pocket.

Once in her modest apartment, he grasped her wrists and held them over her head. She giggled and nuzzled his neck. He smiled inwardly – this was going to be too easy.

Keeping her wrists in one hand he used the other to grope for his coil of oiled sisal.

He was so intent that he didn’t hear a heavy step behind him or feel the blow that stoved in his skull…

The leather-clad executioner spat. 

“One down.”

©️jj 2018


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑

%d bloggers like this: